714
by Yoshiko Mandella
Summary: Human AU. Matthew has finally made it to his Junior year. He has always loved writing fiction and he's quite talented at writing non-fiction as well. He gets a project from his writing professor that counts for the majority of his final grade. The project has Matthew and Alfred writing a biography on a man they have never met before. After meeting him Matt only wants to know more.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey, this is my first fic that I have ever published (I have written other stories but I've never put them online). I hope you all like it! Here goes…

* * *

_Alvaro sat himself across from the Belarusian woman named Rashel, watching her intently. He knew that she was hiding something from him. There was no doubt about that. A few days prior he had found her laptop unlocked revealing a pending message from someone whom he'd failed to recognize. All the auburn-haired male knew was that the message was in a Slovak language. It was either from one of her relatives, or from their enemy, the Volkov Family. The blue-eyed male hoped that it was the former. Either way he had to be careful._

_Rashel was in her usual attire for combat, a white and blue striped dress, blue leggings, lace-up combat boots, and a blue hair-bow tied in her hair. She had once told him that she would wear anything that allowed her optimal movement. Most couldn't or wouldn't fight in a dress, but somehow she did. She was the best of the best. If she was given the word to kill someone, it would be done. She could kill with anything, even her own bare hands, but at a glance most wouldn't think such. She had long pale blond hair, crystal blue eyes, a limber body, and her chest...well, she was better endowed than quite a few women. He honestly had no idea of how women fought while having those things. He figured that they'd only got in the way._

_He surveyed the room just in case he had to defend himself, though he wouldn't have much of a chance if she was intent on killing him. They were in the kitchen. Great. Plenty of utensils for her to use. He needed to find something just in case. There were frying pans, knives, a crème brûlée torch—_

_The mobile phone vibrated on the table. Rashel glanced down at it for a moment, her face turning grave. The blond sighed, "It seems that we will not be comrades any more," her thick Belarusian accent incredibly prevalent. She hadn't been speaking English for very long, so it took Alvaro a few moments to understand her._

_"Are we splitting up?"_

_Her crystal blue eyes glanced his way. "In a way."_

_This wasn't sounding too good for him. "What do you mean?"_

_She stood up to her full height of about five foot three inches. "You see, you weren't supposed to survive last mission, but you did mostly because of your…" She paused as if searching for the right words. "Your unfortunate luck. Means I have to kill you, though I do not really want to."_

_Shit. This really wasn't looking good for him. "Why kill me? You don't have to kill me. You could always let me go." He knew he couldn't talk his way out of the situation, but it didn't hurt to try…maybe his luck would help him again._

_"You see that was from Volkov." She motioned to the mobile on the table. "I cannot turn down order from family. My real name is Nathalie Volkov."_

_No such luck. "What do you mean you can't say no? Wait, you're a Volkov?"_

_"_Da_, I am. Brother was one who issued order; I cannot defy him. So in end, you must die. Come here so I won't have to chase you. I will make sure to make your death quick."_

_Like hell he would come quietly. He glanced at the door; there was no way that he'd make it there before being caught by Rashel. He edged around the table in the same direction that she was slowly creeping towards him. Once he was close enough to the crème brûlée torch, he shoved the table at the blonde, and dashed toward the torch, hoping that it had propane in the mini-tank. Frantically, he began trying to turn the thing on, but something told him to glance up before completing his task. In the reflection of one of the hanging stainless steel pans he saw a wooden chair looming above her head._

_Ducking down, he got the torch to ignite, slid underneath her legs burning one of them. She screamed in pain._

_The window above the sink was much closer than the door. He hopped onto the counter beside the sink and leaped for the window. His leg was grabbed and all he saw was a whirl of colors as he was tossed across the room, hitting the wall, hard. Wincing as he heard a crack, he hoped that it wasn't anything inside him._

_Walking with a slight limp towards the auburn-haired male, Rashel grabbed a cleaver._

* * *

"Mattie!"

Matthew sighed, closed his blue-violet eyes and silently counted to ten. When he opened them he was met with a smiling face that was his twin brother. "Al, if I lose that train of thought, I'll get Vash to dispose of you," he threatened the other blond, though with no malaise, but a threat nonetheless.

Alfred brushed the threat off. "Come on, class is about to start." He held out his hand to help Matthew up from his seated position.

Matthew could never stay mad at his brother, no matter how annoying and obnoxious he could be at times. The wavy blond allowed himself to be pulled up by the other. Bending back down, he grabbed his backpack and notebook off the ground.

Alfred began shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Come on, ya slowpoke!"

Matthew huffed at his younger twin, stood up, and began walking not waiting for the overly eager blond.

"What's the story about this time?" he asked after catching up. "I hope it's not one of those romance stories that you're so prone to writing."

"No, it's actually action packed. I got the idea from you earlier this morning."

Alfred stopped in his tracks. "I gave you an idea?"

They arrived to their writing class with a few minutes to spare, taking their seats in the middle row by the door. Matthew pulled out the notebook that he'd been writing in earlier and began to look over his work. Before he could do anything with it, Lovino sauntered into the classroom. The auburn-hared male stopped in front of their desk. Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Where's your brother?"

"Bastard stayed up all night, doing god knows what. He's sleeping now." His amber eyes glanced down at what Matthew was holding. "Another story?"

"Yeah, you got a problem wi—Wait...We're not changing the subject! Why did you leave without waking Feliciano up?"

The amber-eyed male crossed his arms. "My twin needs to learn that I won't be there all the time, so he needs to become more self-sufficient and get his own ass up in the morning. And no, I don't have a problem with you writing. You have your books, your stories, and maple syrup. Al has his video games, sports, and hamburgers. Feli has his pasta and his art. I have my pasta and all of the sexy ladies in this school." "What?" "Vash has his weapons, crazy bastard, and Roderich has his piano, violin, and cake; at least he's more bearable when he has those things."

Alfred and Matthew smirked.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?"

The blonds nodded in unison.

Lovino turned around and found a fuming Roderich behind him. "_Ciao_ princess!" The Italian was smacked with a textbook, though it was one of the thinner ones, it was still a solid textbook. "Ow...What the hell was that for?"

"For being your annoying and ignorant self!" Roderich huffed and strode off to his seat by Vash which was in the front row near the window on the other side of the room.

A short blonde with a purple ribbon tied in her hair walked past Lovino. He rubbed the side of his head but followed the girl with his amber eyes.

Matthew shook his head. "Don't even think about it."

"What? You already courting her?" The brunette arched an eyebrow.

"No, but someone else is," he glanced over at Vash.

He followed Matthew's gaze, "Well who would've thought..." Lovino glanced at Alfred. "What has you so down? Usually we can't get you to shut up, unless there's food involved." There was no concern in his voice, only amusement.

It dawned on Matthew why Al was acting the way he was acting earlier and now. The T. A. wasn't here. He leaned towards the blond. "You have a crush on the T. A.," he whispered loud enough for only Alfred and Lovino to hear.

"That is not true!" he answered defensively sporting a faint blush.

Lovino began laughing. "Even if you grew a pair and asked him, he'd only turn you down. He's going to be like this—" Lovino noticed that the blonds' widened eyes and shocked faces. He turned around and was met with their teacher, Ms. Blair Berlin, glaring at him. "I'm heading for my seat right now!" He hurried off to his seat in the back row on the same side of the room as the door.

When the sound of the bell signaled for class to begin, Feliciano zoomed through the door and into his seat. It was a wonder he had actually gotten to class on time. Matthew remembered that the younger Italian twin, Feliciano, was always a heavy sleeper ever since he had met him during high school. Even now during college, it was no different.

Ms. Berlin was a pleasant woman, at least to Matthew and many of other students at the university, but for some odd reason Ms. Berlin and Lovino didn't get along too well. This was odd, though Lovino didn't get along with many of the male population at the school, except for the few that he was friends with and his brother, he was usually quite the "lady's man" as Lovino would put it. The elder Italian was such a sucker for the pretty ladies. Ms. Berlin could be considered as such. She had forest green eyes, brown hair that stopped just above the nape of her neck. She was very tall for a female and had a slight southern American accent. Matthew remembered when he had first met Ms. Berlin during his freshman year. She used to have such a southern accent, which Alfred had never noticed, he had lived in America for a good portion of his life; now in his junior year her accent was less prevalent. He figured that it was because she was acquiring a Canadian accent, which he considered normal; they were in Canada after all, which he had lived in for most of his life.

He was originally born in America like his younger twin was, but their parents had divorced. Matthew had went with his mother to Canada, while his brother stayed in America with their father. The twins had visited each other as often as they could, so they were still very close.

"Today you will be picking your partner and your topic for the project that I explained to y'all last week," said Ms. Berlin. Every once and a while her southern vocabulary would slip into her speech.

Alfred and Matthew glanced at each other and nodded. It was already decided, they were going to be partners. When it came to grades, Alfred always pulled his own weight whenever they were partners.

"How much will this grade weigh?" Roderich inquired.

Their instructor smirked. "Seventy-five percent of your Final, and it's due one month before the end of next semester."

There were quite a few choice words mumbled by some of his classmates. There were a few groans as well.

"Here's the sheet." She sat it down at Roderich's table.

Roderich and Vash glanced at the paper. "Umm…These aren't topics, these are people." Matthew heard plenty of confusion in Vash's voice.

"Yes, they are. Remember I told you that this year the topics would be different from what my students have done in the past. This year every pair will be completing a biography, whether it be written or video format, on someone on the list. Some are regular people, some are managers or CEO's of companies, and others have had issues so they are either in jail, mental institute, or in a rehabilitation center. You won't know what situation your person is in until you pick your person and I give you some information on how to contact your interviewee."

"Is this even legal?" asked Lovino.

Ms. Berlin's expression darkened hearing Lovino. "Yes, it is. Now, please choose your interviewee in a timely fashion and pass the sheet around."

It took about fifteen minutes for the page to reach them. When it arrived at their table. The twins eyed the page. There were various names, but one name caught Matthew's eye: Gilbert Belschmidt. This man had the same last name as Ludwig. He would have to ask Ludwig about this Belschmidt person. Matthew wasn't even sure that Ludwig even had any siblings. Matthew couldn't choose Belschmidt as their topic because Roderich and Vash had already chosen him.

Alfred nudged his brother. "Hey you can choose someone. I don't see anyone that I want to pick."

"You sure?"

Alfred nodded.

Matthew scribbled their names down on the name below Belschmidt.

* * *

The Frenchman glanced up from his book when he heard voices on the other side of the door. One caught his ear. It seemed like he was going to be visited by one of the doctors. When the door opened in walked a brunette, his hair just above the base of his neck. He had forest green eyes and was slightly shorter than average height. He had on a white lab coat and a clipboard in hand. The male stopped at the door seeming to be slightly nervous. The Frenchman smirked to himself. The brunette was probably trying to figure who was seated on the bed: was it Francis Bonnefoy or was it France. He decided to show the brunette who was present.

_"Bonjour mon ami!"_

The brunette sighed, taking a few steps inside the room and closing the door behind him. "H-hello, Francis."

"So, how may I help you this fine," he glanced at the wall clock, "afternoon, Toris?"

Toris shifted his weight. "Um...earlier we got a call from the University." Francis raised a blond eyebrow, waiting for the other to continue. "Someone wishes to interview you for their school project."

"Am I the only one to be graced with this lovely opportunity?"

The brunette shook his head. "No, Antonio and Gilbert are being asked to participate as well."

Francis chuckled when he heard the names of his two best friends. "May I have the name of my interviewer?"

"You will find out when they arrive sometime later this week."

Blue eyes locked with green. "'They'?"

Toris nodded his head. "They are twins."

"It's been a while since I've had contact with the outside world." To be honest he was beginning to forget what the outside world was like. This might be interesting. "I will do it," he began slowly. "Will I be able to leave the facility for short excursions any time soon?"

"That depends on how you behave with people outside of HHR&RC."

Hmm...this might actually go well _if_ his other half behaved himself. "Now, if you would please leave, I need to get my beauty rest." The blond gave a shooing motion with his hand that wasn't holding the book.

Once Toris had left, Francis sat the book on the night stand beside the bed, and reclined onto the bed staring up at the ceiling. He wondered what his interviewers would be like. Would they be similar or different, male or female, outgoing or—

He heard a faint chuckling in his head. Francis didn't mind his other half, but sometimes he just wanted to think in peace.

_Am I allowed to have a little fun with them? _France asked.

"They're in college; let them be."

He wanted to get out of this so-called 'Research and Rehab' center. He had to admit that the center did treat their patients with respect, as far as he could tell, but he couldn't help to suspect that something more was going on. He knew that they were doing something to France. France had never told him but Francis knew. Sometimes when he woke up in the morning, he would find foreign marks and bruises that weren't present when he had gone to sleep the night before.

He had never tried to escape, though there were quite a few instances where he could have. He couldn't leave. Not with knowing Antonio's condition. Well, Antonio was fine for now, but piss him off, stress him out, or remind him of his sisters Spain would emerge with the vengeance. The only thing seeming to keep Antonio's other half somewhat at bay was the fact that Francis and Gilbert were still with the Spaniard.

Francis was surprised that Holly Hill Research and Rehabilitation Center was letting Antonio get interviewed. At least Gilbert's other half, Prussia, knew when to lay low. Both he and Francis had the best chance of being released. The sly voice of his other half ripped him from his inner thoughts.

_Oh, and you're going to leave them alone? You know we share the same body and mind, right? So I know the dirty thoughts that were going through your mind before you thought about Spain. _There was so much mocking amusement in France's mental voice.

Francis couldn't take it anymore. "_Fermé! Partez!"_ He sensed France's presence retreat and he was finally left alone to think in peace.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review if you have time. Let me know what you think. Just for clarification, the first section is what Matthew writing his story in his notebook...

**Translations:**  
Da - Yes  
Ciao - Hi  
Bonjour mon ami! - Hello my friend!  
Fermé! Partez! - Shut up! Go away!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Yay! Next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Matthew watched his friends at the large round lunch table. Going left around the table was how his friends were seated. Miguel, a Cuban, was the first person that Matthew had become friends with that was outside of his family. The Cuban had light brown eyes and his dark brown hair was in dreads and tied back. Miguel and Alfred generally didn't see eye to eye. Matthew had no idea of why his brother didn't like the Cuban, but it was apparent that the two should never be alone in a room together...One most likely wouldn't make it back out alive.

Lovino had auburn hair and amber eyes. There was one unruly curl that stuck out on the right side of his head. Like always, he was eying all the girls that walked by. Occasionally he would give Ludwig the stink eye, but most of the time they went ignored. Lovino hated Ludwig with a passion. The auburn-haired male was Matthew's second true friend that he had acquired over the past few years. Though he was a bit foul-mouthed and was hot-tempered at times, he seemed to always have Matthew's back.

Feliciano had auburn hair just like his older twin, but his eyes were different: Feli had green eyes instead of amber. He also had a curl that wouldn't stay down but his was on the left side of his head. Feliciano was literally about four centimeters away from Ludwig. The brunette had been gazing at Ludwig for about, Matthew glanced at the clock, the past fifteen minutes, with the occasional breaks for eating his food, which consisted of pasta, pasta, and...more pasta. Normally he was either be eating pasta (usually with the away-with-the-fairies look) or talking about pasta or something else, but he usually wasn't this quiet. This was a record for the younger Italian; he would be quiet in class because he had to, but never this quiet during lunch.

Ludwig was a blond-haired, blue-eyed German. Matthew had found that pretty amusing when he first met the German, but Alfred had found it utterly hilarious. Ludwig had a strong build and might come across as cold and slightly scary. Once someone got to know him, he was probably one of the most kind and gentle people you would ever meet, though he was stern at times. Ludwig had gotten used to Feliciano's oddities, so the fact that the younger Italian was in such a close proximity didn't bother him. If Matthew didn't know any better, he would think that Ludwig secretly enjoyed Feliciano's company and close proximity. Ludwig didn't hate nor like Lovino, he only tolerated the elder Italian twin probably only for Feli's sake.

Ludwig was quietly speaking with Roderich, who was to his left and didn't look all that pleased, and Vash, who was to Roderich's left. Roderich had short brown hair, deep violet eyes behind his glasses, and a mole on the left side of his face below his mouth. He usually was a mild-mannered person unless someone managed to annoy him, which was pretty hard, well...that depended on who was annoying him: if it was Lovino, it was fairly easy to do so. He spoke German like both Ludwig and Vash, but would become annoyed when someone would mistake him for a German. He would promptly correct the person saying that he was from Austria. The past two days he had worn long-sleeves. It wasn't odd for the Austrian to do so, but it was usually uncommon for him to wear dark long-sleeves at the beginning of the school year. Usually it would be white. He would have to ask the brunette if he was okay, but he would do so in private.

Vash was a blond-haired, bluish-green eyed Swiss. He has a small habit of coming across as a cold person. It wasn't his fault; he just didn't speak to people he didn't know often. For some odd reason he kept giving odd glances towards the Austrian's arms...No, wrists. What was going on?

Yi was a Chinese exchange student. She was slightly taller than the average height for a female. She had long dark hair, light brown eyes, and was slightly pale. Yi was a bit of a mother hen at times and a bit scary at other times. She was never mean to Matthew, but she sometimes didn't get along with Al...Then again who didn't have some sort of issue with his brother? Well, except for Sakura who was seated between Yi and Alfred.

Sakura was a Japanese exchange student who had short black hair, light brown almost amber eyes, and was slightly shorter than Yi. She loved reading, especially manga, and could draw like no other. She was very quiet and usually kept to herself. She would hang around Feliciano and Ludwig at times or could be found hanging around Alfred. She and Alfred could play video games for hours on end, with no break. It continued to baffle Matthew to no end. Last semester she had told Matthew that she had a crush on his brother. Matthew wondered if she knew that Alfred didn't like her in that way and that he was after someone else.

Yi began yelling, pointing her chopsticks at Alfred, probably accusing him of something again, all the while Alfred was starring wide-eyed at the Chinese woman. "I can't believe you did that aru! You are so insensitive!" Yi slipped into Chinese, still directing the words at Alfred. Didn't she know that she was the only one who spoke and understood Chinese at their lunch table?

Sakura began trying to calm her roommate down. "Yi-chan," she uttered quietly, "you really shouldn't get so angry. It was probably an accident."

"You know good and well it wasn't! He tore up my physics paper and threw it into the trash!" Yi had thrown one of her chopsticks at Alfred, who dogged like always.

"That's what you're pissed about?" Alfred inquired while still dodging the other various objects that were being thrown his way by Yi. Honestly, she should have run out of items to throw by now.

Matthew glanced at Miguel, and then they both stared at Matthew's brother in complete disbelief, waiting for him to elaborate on the situation.

Alfred smiled sheepishly, lightly scratching the back of his head. "The papers that went into the trash were some old homework of mine." He bent down and rummaged through his backpack. Finding what he was looking for, he handed a stack of papers to Yi. "This is your Physics paper. I even proofread it!" he finished, regaining his confidence.

"You? Doing grammar and spell check? That's rich!" Lovino had finally stopped watching the girls at one of the other tables.

"Hey," Alfred began defensively, "I can write well when I want to. Can't I Mattie?"

He sighed. His did have a point. "Yes, you can. That's also why you're my partner for the project."

She stared at her paper. "...Thanks…" She grabbed her belongings and fled. Sakura, quickly grabbing her belongings, and excused herself, quickly following after her roommate.

"Oh, I almost forgot," began Roderich. "Ms. Berlin informed me that all six of us should see her after lunch."

Alfred glanced at Lovino. "But we have class after lunch."

Roderich sighed in slight annoyance. "She'll give passes to anyone who may have any classes during the time you are with her."

"Speaking of the project, do you have any relatives?" Alfred directed the question at Ludwig.

Ludwig frowned. "Of course I have relatives!" The sudden outburst startled the younger Italian beside him.

Miguel laughed. "You really aren't that bright are you, Alfred?"

Al glared at the Cuban. He turned back to Ludwig. "Do you have a brother named Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

Great. Matthew was going to ask Ludwig that in private. He had tried to get the German alone to ask him for the past day and a half, but to no avail. He figured that if he did have a brother by that name and since that he hadn't told them about him, the matter must have been private.

Ludwig froze for a split second, but he quickly recovered with a short answer, "No." Roderich frowned and glanced at Ludwig, causing the blond German to utter a few words quietly in German to the brunette. This made Roderich seem fairly annoyed.

Knowing Alfred, he wanted to reply to Ludwig's answer. Matthew made it clear to not say another word about the subject, by glaring daggers that his twin. Alfred stayed quiet for the rest of lunch.

* * *

Francis perched himself on the edge of the unconscious Spaniard's bed, blue eyes filled with worry. He glanced behind himself at Gilbert, who was leaning against the wall near the bed. "I hope he wakes soon…"

As if on cue, the brunette on the bed began to stir back into consciousness. He groaned. "I feel like I got hit by _un tren_," he moaned.

The Frenchman gently laughed, elated that his friend was well enough to speak. "We can assure you that you didn't get hit by one!"

"You got hit by _two_ tranqs," Gilbert deadpanned with slight amusement in his voice.

"How long was I out this time?" Antonio paused for a split second. "Wait, why did they shoot me with tranquilizers?"

"A year," the albino uttered as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Antonio's eyes widened, fear full in his eyes. "_¿Verdad?_"

Red eyes glanced at the brunette in disbelief, then huffed. "No you dipshit! Just a day and a half."

"Spain attacked two people: a nurse and someone very important." Francis helped Antonio sit up.

"Who?" he tentatively asked, worry evident in his green eyes.

"Spain attacked Felix and Ivan," said Francis.

The albino smirked. "I'm surprised that they didn't put you down for good after all of the commotion. It looked like Spain wanted to kill Ivan."

The blond whipped his head around in the direction the statement came from. "How could you say such a thing?" He was appalled that Gil would say such a thing! This made him actually _look_ at his other friend. His red eyes were slightly darker and he held himself in a slightly different way. Gilbert wasn't the one who said those horrible words; it was Prussia. Francis could tolerate Prussia as long as he wasn't being an ass to either himself or Antonio.

"What? I'm not allowed to voice my opinion?" Francis only glared at the albino. Antonio looked as if he were about to burst into tears. Prussia shrugged and left the room.

Once he was gone, Francis uttered softly, "Hey, _mon ami_, don't listen to him. He didn't mean it."

The Spaniard shifted and laid back down as if he were intent on going back to sleep. "Just go…"

"I came here to see if you were okay, and to get you to come and eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Francis combed his fingers through his blond, wavy hair. "Toni, you haven't eaten in over a day and a half!"

The brunette didn't respond.

Francis sighed in defeat, got up from his seated position on the bed, and left the room. Antonio would come out eventually, but he had another matter to deal with…He needed to fix Prussia. In order to do so, he needed France's help.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you liked this chapter. Please review if you have time.

**Translations:**  
un tren - a train  
¿Verdad? - Really?  
mon ami - my friend


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I would've had this out sooner but school was being a pain and I was a little under the weather for a short while... Well I'm back now! Thanks of the reviews! They were greatly appreciated! Now, on with the story!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Matthew extended his arms above his head to partake in a much-needed stretch as he walked out of his last class of the day. He loathed the fact that he had a late class on Thursdays but it was made up with not having any classes on Fridays. Somehow both he and his brother managed to have no school Fridays. He glanced at his phone to check the time: 5:30. Alfred would be out in about fifteen to twenty minutes.

Once outside he sat on a bench and gazed at the clouds passing by in the steadily darkening sky. Well, he didn't completely have Fridays off anymore…He thought back to the encounter after lunch.

* * *

Matthew sat in his seat as he looked over his notebook. What could Ms. Berlin want to talk about anyway? Was it about their interviews?

Ms. Berlin walked into the classroom, glancing to each of her students in turn. "Ah, I see you all are here." She set her bag on her desk and leaned against the desk. The T.A., Arthur Kirkland, waltzed in after her, taking his place near her against the wall.

"What is it you wanted to tell us?" chirped Feliciano.

She smiled at the younger Italian. "It's about your interviews."

Matthew glanced at his brother who was…Looks like Alfred wouldn't be listening anymore. He was dreamily gazing at the British male that had walked in after their teacher. Yep, Al was infatuated with the T.A. There was no hiding that. Matthew glanced over to Lovino who was sitting next to Feliciano. There was a devilish smirk on his face. It seemed that Lovino had noticed as well. Looks like Alfred wasn't going to hear the end of this… Matthew quietly sighed and directed his attention back on the teacher.

"Based on the people you've chosen, the six of you are all going to the same place: Holly Hill Research and Rehabilitation Center."

"We signed up to talk to a bunch of crack heads and alcoholics?"

Cold forest green eyes glared at the elder Italian who had asked the question. "Just because someone's in a Rehabilitation Center doesn't mean that they were on crack or addicted to alcohol." Ms. Berlin continued, turning to Arthur, her demeanor had completely changed. "Would you be a dear and retrieve the envelopes that I've prepared for them?" Once he had retrieved the envelopes and began to hand them to each group, she continued. "Inside each one there will be some basic information on the person you're interviewing, all the requirements for the project, and some questions to help break the ice of awkwardness." She paused for a moment. "Oh, I almost forgot! You all will be going there on Fridays. The first meeting will be tomorrow at 10:00 am."

"What?!" Lovino exclaimed.

Ms. Berlin warily glanced over at Lovino.

"What my brother means is that we have classes on Fridays, unlike the other four who are here." Feliciano clarified.

"Oh, that. I've already spoken with your teachers about that and it's all taken care of." She clapped her hand together. "Your new schedules are in your envelope. Though I'm still trying to figure out how the rest of you managed to have no classes on Fridays." She directed the last statement to the other four students in the room.

Arthur handed Matthew the envelope. The Brit glanced at Alfred who was staring down at his lap with a faint dusting of pink on his face. Yep. Al was no use to him at the moment. The Brit huffed, rolled his eyes, and made his way to where he was earlier. Lovino was going to have a Field Day teasing Alfred later on. Matthew sighed and nudged his brother to get his attention and save the other from any more embarrassment. Alfred jolted, lightly furrowing his brows as if trying to figure out where he was and how he had gotten there. Just to give the other something to do so that he wouldn't become embarrassed once again, Matthew handed the envelope to his brother.

Alfred eyed it for a moment, then opened it. They both skimmed over the papers until Matthew came to a photograph. This must be the person that they'd be interviewing. He had long, wavy blond hair for a male that was tied back with a blue ribbon. He was seated in front of a large tree, the leaves giving off patchy shade, but Matthew could tell that he had crystal blue eyes that seemed to be dancing with the slightest amount of mischief. Matthew frowned. The blond in this photo looked to be in his teens, but the documents said that he was twenty-five. Matthew flipped over the photograph and found a date printed in orange ink on the middle of it. Oh, it was taken about ten years ago. That would explain the age discrepancy.

"Looks like he's up to something. I don't trust him," Alfred muttered under his breath after glancing at the photograph.

Matthew gaped at his brother in disbelief. "You don't even know him! You have no right to judge him!"

"Well, I don't trust him."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Go back to ogling at Arthur," he murmured darkly.

A light blush dusted Al's face. "I was not!"

Matthew huffed. He couldn't believe his brother. Why did he have to be such an ass sometimes? Matt couldn't take it anymore. He needed some space so he glanced to where Feliciano and Lovino were seated; who were conversing in Italian, with Lovino being the more animated one with agitation in his voice. Well that wasn't new. Lovino probably wasn't too keen on the idea of a new schedule. No use bothering them right now. He glanced over to where Roderich and Vash were seated. The brunette looked pale, like he had witnessed a ghost. Roderich was slightly pale to begin with so to actually see a difference in skin tone was pretty shocking. Matthew stood from his seat and walked over to them. "You okay, Roderich? It looks like you've seen a ghost."

They both looked up. Roderich seemed completely lost. Vash said something to him in German, making the other shake his head as if to clear his mind and actually look at Matthew.

"Are you okay?" Matthew asked again.

"J-Ja...I am."

Matthew didn't buy it but Roderich would tell him what was wrong if or when he was ready. Though he shouldn't have asked Roderich this question because of how he was acting, but curiosity got the better of him. "So, what does your person look like?"

The brunette stared at the photo for a moment as if he were contemplating on whether or not he would let Matthew see the photo. He slowly handed it over.

The picture was taken indoors, maybe in someone's house. He was seated in a chair looking away from the camera. Maybe he was looking out a window or something. There must've been a window open in that direction because the tablecloth that was on the small table beside him was moving as if the wind was pushing it. He had very pale hair, almost silver or white. His skin was pale as well. Looking closer Matthew could see a hint of red for his eyes. Was he an albino?

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-two," Roderich supplied flatly.

Matthew furrowed his brow. "He looks young for a twenty-two year old." Looking for the date that should have printed on the back, he turned it over, but he found

nothing.

"It was taken about five years ago."

What? How could Roderich have known that? There was no indication of when it was taken. Oh well, maybe the brunette was just speculating. Matthew returned the photo to Roderich.

* * *

Matthew felt someone sit down beside him on the bench.

"You ready to go?"

Matthew nodded hearing his brother's voice.

They both got up and headed towards the parking lot. Within a few minutes they had pulled into their personal garage across from their apartment. Matthew glanced at the motorcycle parked on the other side of the garage. Usually they drove it to school unless one of them had a mountainous load to carry or the weather was nasty. That morning the sky looked like it was going to take revenge on humanity for putting so much crap into its atmosphere, but before lunch it had cleared up.

Once the garage had closed, they made their way to their door on the second floor. Alfred unlocked the door, dropped his things just beyond the threshold, leaving his brother to nearly trip over the other's stuff but caught the door frame to catch himself, and jumped onto the couch letting out a over-dramatic sigh of relief.

Really? Seriously? "Your carelessness is going to get me killed one day," Matthew exasperatedly muttered. Sometimes it was hard living with his twin. It wasn't like Alfred was a really messy person; it was just that sometimes he would leave things in the most awkward of place like invisible land mines ready to detonate.

Alfred turned his head and glanced at the other. "You're still talking, aren't you? I think that means you're not dead," he commented in a-matter-of-fact, flipping on the television.

"You're hopeless." Matthew walked passed him, glancing at the floor to make sure he wouldn't trip on anything else, to put his stuff in his room. His room, well no, _both_ of their bedrooms were a fairly large size. There was too hockey sticks above his bed. Hey he had to be able to defend himself while half sleep if an intruder came. His comforter looked like a giant Canadian flag. There was a desk near the window with his laptop. There were a few knickknacks on the bookshelf and dresser. Above the door hung a Canadian flag. His brother's room looked just about the same just with the American flag instead and a couple of footballs too, which Matthew _still_ didn't understand how to throw... He also failed to understand how "football" had become so popular in America. Hockey was more up Matthew's alley.

It had taken quite a while to find this apartment. Neither of them had liked living in a dorm on campus, so after freshman year they acquired this apartment. They both worked to help with the rent and other expenses, but they didn't _have _to have a job. Their dad was a very influential politician in D.C., their mother a surgeon. So when they sent money, they sent _money_.

Matthew returned to the main room and plopped down beside his brother. Alfred had a childish grin on his face. "We've been having Fridays off for the past two weeks! And this one's on different! I could get used to this." He leaned back folding his arms above his head.

Freshman year they had piled on as many classes as they could, even taking summer school for a few classes, in order to get ahead. Sophomore year they took a normal class load, leaving this year, their junior year, with an exceedingly light course load. The first three days of the week their last class, usually only an hour long, was after lunch, but on Thursdays they had a late class. He figured it couldn't be helped; they basically had almost half-days every day.

Matthew arched his eyebrow. "You weren't listening after lunch were you? We have to be at Holly Hill at ten in the morning."

Alfred groaned. "Do we have to?"

"Do you want to fail the class?"

"No…."

"Then I suggest that you should come with me."

* * *

**A/N:** That's it for this chapter. I'm sorry that there was no Francis in this one, but I couldn't decide what to do for his section. So I decided to post the chapter instead of delay it even longer... So next chapter will probably be their encounter. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **AAhhhhh! This really shouldn't have taken this long...I'm so sorry! School has been so mean to me, with all of it's work (especially with AP Physics B kicking my ass...). At least it's almost over...But then I start college next semester...crap... Oh well. On a higher note: I finally went to my first MomoCon! It was so awesome! Anyway, enough about me.

Onward with the story! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

A fully clothed Matthew gazed at his softly snoring brother who was still dead to the world. He shook his brother, trying to wake him. He didn't budge. He called his name a few times. "Alfred. Alfred...Alfred! Get up!"

Alfred tiredly batted his hand in the direction of Matthew's voice. "Ten more minutes," he groaned.

"You need to get up! We have to be at Holly Hill in a little more than an hour and fifteen minutes. And depending on traffic, it takes about thirty to forty-five minutes to get there!"

Alfred burrowed further under the covers.

Fine. If Alfred wouldn't get up now, maybe the smell of food would wake him. If not, Alfred would wake himself up in about ten minutes. Matthew padded into the kitchen and began mixing the batter for pancakes and put the bacon and the eggs in the pan to start cooking. Within minutes the smell of bacon and pancakes were wafting through the apartment as well as the sound of the eggs sizzling on a hot pan. A muffled thud was heard from Alfred's room.

"Ow...Why didn't you wake me up, Mattie?" Alfred whined while gingerly walking into the kitchen and setting down on a stool by the counter with a silent wince.

Matthew flipped the pancakes and smirked. "I did, but you insisted on more time for sleeping. Since that didn't work, I decided to wake you by way of food, but it seems that you rolled out of bed and hit the ground, again." He glanced at the blond while trying and failing to contain a small fit of laughter. "Was it your face or your ass this time?"

"Not funny," the other whined while rubbing his bottom to try to soothe the slight pain from the fall.

Matthew plated the food and place one of the plates in front of Alfred. "What do you want to drink?"

A childish grin spread across the other's face despite the pain from the earlier fall. "Milk, like always!"

Matthew went over to the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk and a carton of orange juice. He poured a glass of each. He set the milk in font of the other and sat beside him at the counter with his orange juice.

Alfred tilted his head to the side. "Why don't you ever drink milk?"

"I could've sworn that we have already been over this." He picked up the bottle of maple syrup. "I just don't like the taste." He poured a fair amount on his pancakes and handed the glass bottle to the other.

"Well, I know that you're not la...lactate...no, that's not the word..."

"Lactose intolerant?" Matthew offered dryly.

"Yeah, that! I know that you're not lactose intolerant because you can eat ice cream like a boss."

Matthew sighed. "That only happened twice." The first time was when they were younger and it was someone's, i.e Alfred's, bright idea to have an eating contest with ice cream, but Matthew had won which the Canadian was _very_ proud of much to Alfred's disdain. The second was when he had dumped his first boyfriend just before sophomore year in college. He didn't want to, but he knew he needed to. He hadn't had any relationships since.

"I'm glad you dumped that bastard," there was a slight coldness in his voice.

Sometimes it was like Alfred could read his mind. It was odd that Matthew had just thought of his ex. Maybe it was a twin thing… "I am not having this conversation with you again! Finish your food and get dressed! We need to leave soon," he said that last statement much calmer.

After they had finished eating and Alfred had gotten dressed, they headed for their garage. Today was sunny so they would take the motorcycle. Matthew picked up the helmet laying on the nearby counter and hopped onto the front seat of the bike. He would be driving today; he had been to Holly Hill numerous occasions, not for himself but to visit someone else. Though they had installed a two-way radio in the helmets so they could hear each other over the roaring of the wind, they were silent during the whole drive to their destination.

Once he had parked the bike, they headed for the door. On their way to it Alfred broke the silence. "Um...I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't thinking. I—"

"No, it's fine," Matthew cut off his brother. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." The automatic doors opened and they stepped into the facility. He wasn't expecting a running Tino to glomp him, which made him drop his helmet in the process. Luckily Alfred caught the helmet before it hit the ground.

"Aahh! It's been so long since I've seen you!" The smaller blond was bounding up and down on his toes with utter elation. "When I saw that you were going to be here...I...I just...! I'm so happy to see you!"

Matthew glared halfheartedly at an amused Alfred as he tried to extract himself from his excited friend. "I thought you were supposed to be in Finland until the end of next year. What happened?"

"I graduated early and came back. Now I work here at the front desk. At least it pays a hell of a lot better than my old job did and it's less demeaning," Tino added the last part as if it were an after thought.

"Who is he?" Alfred finally spoke after being silent for a while, amusement still clearly displayed on his face.

Matthew had met Tino during the second half of high school. He had seen him sitting alone outside during lunch and wanted to ask him if he wanted to sit with Miguel, Lovino, and himself during lunch. Sadly Matthew was still very shy around new people. Luckily, Miguel noticed that Matthew wanted to ask the lone blond and asked for him. Tino had aggreed to sit with them and they had been friends ever since.

"Oh, Al, this is Tino. Tino, this is my brother, Al."

"Nice to meet finally you," said Tino. "I can take those if you want." He pointed at the helmets in Alfred's hands.

"Thanks." Alfred gave the helmets over to the smaller blond.

"By the way, there is a little information session all visitors have to go through."

"What? There wasn't an info session when I came here to visit," said Matthew.

"Sorry, Mattie, but rules are rules. I'm the one who's giving the session. The roster says that there will be six of you and two people are already in the other room waiting." Tino pointed to the door to the left; both blonds looked at the door. "I don't want to give the session twice so I'll wait for the other two to arrive."

Alfred glanced back at Tino. "Which two are in there?"

Tino walked over to the counter and glanced a the clipboard. "Roderich Edelstein and Vash Zwingli."

Matthew wasn't completely amused. "The Italians would be the last to get here. They will be happy to see you back so early."

"They're not late yet. I start the session at 10:15. They still have," Tino glanced at the wall clock, "about fifteen minutes. I'm excited to see them again too!"

* * *

He still wanted to give Prussia a piece of his mind for hurting Antonio the other day, but Prussia had been keeping a low profile for the past day. Francis knew that France had spoken with the other, but he did not know what was said between the two. Hopefully, that would keep Prussia off of Antonio's back.

Francis sighed. He couldn't believe that he had let Gilbert talk him into doing it. He knew that he could hold his own in a fight if he had to, but Gilbert had insisted that it was a sparing match and that he wouldn't go "all out" on the Frenchman. That was a lie. At least he won two of the matches...out of five.

_You never cease to amuse me. _France murmured.

He really didn't want to deal with his other half, but nonetheless they shared a body, so it couldn't be helped. _Why must you rub it in my face? _

_ I'm not. I just find you amusing at times._

_At times?_ Francis arrived at his room, stepped in, closed the door, and shed his clothes. He proceeded into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped in. Ah, that felt soothing. He thought back to what France had told him the night before.

* * *

After making sure Antonio would be alright, Francis left the room in search of Prussia. That _bâtard_ would pay for making Antonio feel down, and that was a _very_ hard task to accomplish. That Spaniard was always so cheerful. Spain was another story altogether. He stopped walking. He could feel the lingering prescience of France. _You know where Prussia is, don't you. _

_I do. _France responded coolly.

_Are you going to tell me? _There was no answer from his other half. "Sometimes you are utterly useless!" Francis murmured aloud accidentally.

"Who is useless?" came a voice from behind him.

The blond turned around slowly to come face to face with one of the people who was attacked by Spain nearly two days ago, Ivan Braginski. Blue eyes widened in shock and a light shade of pink dusted the Frenchman's face. "Oh, _bonjour_, Ivan! I was just thinking out loud. The statement was directed to no one in particular."

"Okay Francis, have a good rest of the day." The tall Russian began walking away but stopped, tilting his head slightly to the side as if in thought. "You will have visitors tomorrow, _da_?"

_Crap._ Francis had forgotten all about that, what with all that had happened with Antonio and all. "_Oui,_ I do."

"In that case, be good!" And with that the tall Russian walked off.

_That's the doctor, _France's voice full of venom came suddenly.

_ Who, Ivan? I didn't know he was a doctor. He doesn't have "Dr." in front of his name._

_ He doesn't have to. He only is referred to as "doctor" when he's doing tests on his patients. That's why Spain attacked Ivan. He was pissed that Ivan was doing those "examining or tests," or what ever the hell one calls them, to him._

_ Do they do these "examinings" on us as well?_

_ Oui._

_ What do these examinings or tests entail?_

France seemed to be a little unsettled about what happened during "examinings." _I'm not at liberty to say._

* * *

Francis shut off the water once he had finished cleaning himself. He stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and began to dry himself. Why would Ivan be called "doctor" at night but not during the day?

_He wants to keep his reputation, _said France. _But for what I know not._

He walked out of the bathroom heading for his closet of clothes that Holly Hill had given him. They really needed to buy more stylish apparel or at least let him leave and get better clothes. They weren't completely dreadful, but they could at least put some effort in it. Francis stopped rummaging through his closet when he heard a sound at the door. He turned around to find a blond male in the doorway. His blond hair was wavy and he had violet eyes with a slight tint of blue in them. What an intriguing color. Blue-violet eyes locked with blue, then traveled downward and back up. His eyes widened, blushed a deep shade of red and began to sputter random words which seemed to be in French. The male quickly disappeared and closed the door behind him.

That was odd. Why would the other act like—? Francis glanced down at himself. Oh. Right. He was nude. That could have been the reason for that adorable reaction. It wasn't like being seen nude was anything new to him. He sighed and continued getting dressed. He could hear voices outside his door.

"There you are! I was looking all over for you! Wait, why are you sitting in front of a door and why is your face red?" asked a voice.

"I-I can never un-see that," came a much softer, yet by no means calmer, voice that was apparently seated in front of his door.

"What do ya mean?" asked the first voice.

There was no answer.

"Is this the room we're supposed to be in? It's room 714, right?"

Still no answer.

There was a shuffling outside of the door, then a knock. By this time Francis was fully dressed. "Come in." Francis turned around to face the door. In walked two blonds.

"Hi, I'm Alfred and this is Mattie." Alfred pointed his thumb at the male beside him who was still blushing from earlier. Alfred had short, straight golden blond hair with a stray strand of hair that stuck up at the front of his head, and blue eyes that almost matched the sky. After getting a better look at the other blond, Mattie, Francis could see that he was actually a blond with a slight wheat or honey color to it and had a curled strand of hair that stuck up in the middle of his head.

"It's Matthew actually," the other blond murmured softly, his blush now mostly faded.

"So, you two must be the people from the University that's going to interview me. Well, I'm the fabulous Francis Bonnefoy!" he said while flipping his hair back. The other two glanced at each other. "Please, have a seat." Once they were seated on the chairs that had been added that morning by the facility's staff, Francis continued. "How is this interview going to go?" He thought of something else before the other two could answer. "But before we start, I would like know a little about you two. It only seems fair, _oui_? Plus you are the first people who I've talked to, who are from outside _this_ facility, in quite some time."

Alfred glanced at Matthew who gave a slight shrug. Alfred began talking but Francis was only halfway paying attention. Most of his attention was focussed on the violet-eyed male. What was it that was so intriguing about the other? He couldn't figure it out.

It felt like an hour, or maybe it was two, before the American stopped talking, but in all honesty it was a little less than ten minutes. What he had gotten out of halfway listening to Alfred was: He was an American, very good at sports, could put away food like no other, usually left the cooking for his twin brother, loved playing video games, and their parents were divorced. There were plenty of other things the blond had said, but Francis didn't really care.

Francis wanted to hear about Matthew, but today that didn't seem possible. There was a knock on the door. "Come in," said Francis. The door opened and a nurse walked in. She had dark skin, long black hair tied in two ponytails, and brown eyes. "_Bonne journée, Mademoiselle Michelle._ How may I help you?

"Hello Mr. Bonnefoy. It is time for your weekly checkup." Brown eyes surveyed the room and landed on the two seated blonds. "Oh, you have guests! Umm I'm sorry but you two will have to leave."

"Weekly?" The twins said at the same time.

"We're here to interview him on Fridays," said Matthew.

Michelle thought for a moment. "I will see if I can change his day, but he still has to come with me. I'm sorry but you both must leave."

Francis sighed and stood. "It was lovely meeting you, Alfred, _Mathieu._ I will see you next week?"

Alfred nodded slowly and Matthew murmured a small "yes" along with a smile.

The twins stood and walked out the door.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Translations: **The French translations are brought to you by Xou!

bâtard - bastard

Bonne journée - good day

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"I can't believe she kicked us out! We didn't get any info out of'em, not even why he's here!" Alfred whined while on the elevator going to the ground floor.

"It wouldn't have been that much of a problem if you hadn't talked so much, _and _if you hadn't gotten lost on the way to the room, we may have gotten something from him."

Alfred playfully pouted, then his expression changed. "You never did tell me why you were sitting in front of the door." The elevator door opened and they stepped out.

Blue-violet eyes widened and a faint blush reappeared on his face. No. Matthew did _not_ want to think about _that_ again. Hmm… Francis _did_ have a nice body. It was lean and he looked strong too, not overly muscled, but just enough to know that they were there and could be used if need be...Wait...He shouldn't be thinking such things! But while on the topic, there were quite a few scars on the other's back. He wondered how they had gotten there. Some of the scars looked like they had been quite painful when acquiring them.

Matthew jolted a little when his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He took it out and tapped his thumb over the answer icon on the screen not looking at the Caller ID. "Hello?"

_"Hey, Matthew, did I catch ya at a bad time?"_

"Oh, hey Elijah! Umm...no...why?"

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. _"Could ya come in about forty-five minutes to cover for Nari until 5:00 pm?"_

Matthew glanced in the direction of his brother who had taken up talking to Tino, for lack of anything else better to do. Al probably wouldn't be too happy about this... He sighed and answered, "Sure, but I don't have my unifor—"

_"That's fine. We have extras in the back!"_ Elijah cut him off. _"So...will you come?"_ His voice hopeful.

The Canadian nodded but then remembered that the other couldn't see him. "Sure, I'll be there soon." They said their goodbyes and hung up. "Al, I have to go to work."

Alfred paused his conversation with Tino. Too bad, it seemed that they were getting along quite well; no surprise there. Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought you were off today."

"Well, someone got sick." He shrugged at his brother, then turned to Tino and smiled. "It was good seeing you!"

Tino grinned, gave them their helmets, and waved them goodbye.

* * *

France shifted, getting more comfortable in the warm sheets. He slowly opened his eyes, letting his eyes refocus and take in his surroundings. When had he gotten back to his room? He remembered meeting _Mathieu _and Alfred, Michelle coming to get him, then going to the room for his usual check-ups, then...nothing.

He groaned when he sat up. They must've given him something. _France?_

There was no reply. Francis didn't sense his presence either. Perhaps whatever he had been given must have affected France more so than himself.

The door slammed open, startling the Frenchman.

Antonio's voice came through the threshold of the door. "There's something wrong with—" The urgency left his voice when his eyes landed on Francis. Now it was full with concern. _"¿Amigo? _You don't look so good. _¿Qué pasó?"_

"I believe they gave me something, again." He shifted. "What's wrong with who?" he asked still slightly drowsy.

Green eyes were filled with worry. "There's something wrong with Gil!"

"Elaborate _s'il te plait_ because I'm not quite following you."

"He..ummm…the door's barricaded and..." Antonio seemed to be in distress.

Francis sighed as he got out of bed. "Where is he?"

The Spaniard grabbed his hand and led him to where their friend was on the first floor. They arrived at Gilbert's door. Francis tried the door and found that it was indeed barricaded in some way. How Gilbert pulled it off, Francis would never know. Antonio knocked and called the other's name. There was no reply.

"Gilbert," Francis called, "_S'il te plait_ open the door. We only wish to help."

A shuffling was finally heard after a few moments, as well as the sound of a heavy object being dragged across the floor, and the door swung open. They stepped inside and closed the door behind them. Gilbert was sitting on the bed staring at the far wall; crimson eyes unfocused. Francis and Antonio sat on either side of him. Antonio kept quiet, rubbing soothing circles on the albino's back.

"_Cher,_ what bothers you so?"

Gilbert didn't reply.

"Gil…," Francis tried again.

"He was here," the albino began weakly. His voice was way too hollow; there wasn't any egotistical flair in it either. Whatever was bothering Gilbert must have been very serious. "I couldn't even talk to him." His voice rose in volume. "That bastard locked me out from my own self!"

Francis blinked. "We'll take this one step at a time," he said. "Who was here?"

Gilbert stood up, walking away from them. "Roderich."

Francis thought for a moment. That name did sound familiar, but where had he heard that name before?

_It's his, or was his boyfriend's name. _There was an inward groan made by France._ What did they give us anyway?_

He hadn't noticed that France was back. It was probably because he was preoccupied about worrying about his friend. _I don't know... Are you okay?_

_I should be fine. A little disoriented, but fine._

Francis vaguely remembered Gilbert telling him about the Germ—no, Austrian, when they had first met. Francis and Antonio had been friends for a long time. He had met the Spaniard after things had turned for the worst back home. The two of them had met Gilbert about three years ago.

"Who's the bastard?"

The blond glanced at Antonio in disbelief.

"What? It's a valid question," Antonio defended.

"Prussia."

Both men on the bed directed their attention back to their friend.

"_Amigo_, maybe next week will be better," Antonio offered quietly.

Cursing loudly, Gilbert slammed his fist into the wall. "Why won't you just leave me alone!"

"Gil..." Antonio began, but the blond stopped him by placing a hand on his leg to get the other's attention. Francis shook his head, willing the other to understand. It would be better for Gilbert to work it out with Prussia alone. Having all that pent-up energy would never end well. If Gilbert could work this out on his own, it would prove beneficial for the three of them.

However, that wasn't the case. The albino became more vocal and physical over the corse of a few minutes. The albino threw various items across the room. One item, the table, shattered on impact with the far wall near the bathroom door. He kept arguing with himself, in German of corse, so the other two in the room didn't understand what was being said, or yelled in this case. Francis could only hear the tone in the other's voice to try to gauge the situation. He still didn't know what to do. If this kept getting out of hand, the doctors would probably come and take him somewhere.

"Gilbert! You need to calm down!" Antonio was the one who spoke what the Frenchman was thinking. "If you don't…" but his pleadings fell on deaf ears.

As if on cue, the door slammed open, and three doctors raced across the threshold: Toris, Francis' doctor; Sadiq, Antonio's doctor; and looking somewhat alert Heracles, Gilbert's doctor. Both Sadiq and Heracles managed to somewhat restrain the Prussian; however just because the physical abuse of his room had temporally ceased did not mean his struggles and mouth did.

"_LET GO OF ME YOU BASTARDS!"_

_"Go get the sedative!" Sadiq barked the order at Toris, who quickly darted out the room and returned with a needle filled with a slightly translucent liquid._

Seeing this, which snapped them out of their initial shock, both stood up and steeped forward as if they were going to help their friend get loose from the doctors.

Taking note of their movements, Toris uttered sternly, "If you come any closer, I will have to consider you two as a threat to the situation and I will inject you both with this as well. I really don't want to have to do that," he added after a momenta as if it were an afterthought.

The Spaniard and the Frenchman stopped in their forward movement. Francis didn't want to be injected with something else. He had just woken up from whatever they had given him earlier.

"Don't make this harder on yourself," Heracles murmured softly. "Just relax and calm down."

Francis hated that he could do nothing, for he would be drugged as well, to help Gilbert. There was another volley of rough German from the albino in response to Heracles' suggestion. It had been a long time since he had heard such angry German from the albino.

=Sadiq nodded and Toris injected Gilbert. Gilbert continued to thrash about and yell for a short while, then signs of him weakening began to show. His retaliations were becoming less and less and his voice had lowered in volume. His crimson eyes closed and his body went limp in Heracles and Sadiq's arms. There was no response from Gilbert.

Francis gasped, his hand went to cover his mouth. Was this how it always worked when sedatives were involved? He hadn't been present when Spain in rage, but Gilbert had told him the basics on what happened, but not all the details. What had they used on the albino? Was he—No, he couldn't be...could he?

Francis took another steep forward but stopped when he felt Antonio grab his wrist. He glanced back at the Spaniard who shook his head.

_He is still breathing,_ calmly came France's voice.

_Quoi?_

_Look closer. He is just unconscious._

Francis focused his gaze on Gilbert's chest. Indeed, there was steady movement. _Merci mon Dieu!_ He knew that their doctors wouldn't kill him, but still that scared him. Antonio's voice ripped him away from his inner thoughts.

"Where are you taking him?"

The three doctors shared a look before one of them answered Antonio's question.

"He'll be in isolation for a few days," said Sadiq. "If everything goes well, he 'll be out in about two to three days." He paused for a moment, then said, "But if he doesn't get better, he may be in there for quite some time. Usually he's out in a day or so, so you two shouldn't worry."

Francis and Antonio could only watch as their best friend was carried out the room.

* * *

"Matthew...Matthew!"

The blond was startled by the voice.

"You okay?" the voice asked.

Matthew turned around to see who it was. The woman standing beside him was a regular at the restaurant. Whenever she ate here, it was usually later. Maybe she had plans for later. She had dirty blond hair, stopping at her lower back and bluish-greenish-grayish eyes. Yes, her eyes were a unique mix of three colors. He had met her when he first started working here. Her name was Thalia, and she was the first person, besides his coworkers, who noticed him while he was at work at the restaurant. Now he was usually noticed by others. At least the patrons didn't run him over anymore.

"...Yeah," he finally responded. "Why, do I not look it?" He led her to her usual table by the window. He wasn't the host, but everyone knew where she sat: it was always by the window, which usually was his section. He handed her a menu, but she held up a hand to gently push it back. Matthew gave her a quizzical look.

"Surprise me. And to answer your question, you looked like you were away with the fairies. If you have time, we could talk about it."

He glanced around. "You're the only on in my section as of now and I get off in about ten minutes. Let me go put your order in."

The last few minutes of his job quickly flew by. Once he had clocked out, changed back into his clothes, and returned the extra uniform to Elijah, he took a seat facing Thalia.

"I didn't think you worked today."

"Wasn't supposed to."

Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "Then why…?"

"I was filling in for someone."

She gave a genuine smile. "Always the considerate friend," she remarked, earning a light flush from the other. "And easily embarrassed."

"Shut up! That's not true," he playfully defended.

She only smirked in amusement. "So what's on your mind? What had you gazing off into the distance earlier?"

Should he tell her? It wasn't like he completely knew himself...Well, that was partially a lie. He should start out vaguely and gauge her reaction to see if he would continue in more detail, or just let the issue die. "...I met someone earlier today," he began.

She raised a brow in interest, but didn't say a word.

"I'm conducting an interview for a _large_ part of my grade in one of my classes." He paused, trying to figure out what to say and how to say the next part. "He seems...interesting, to say the least, though we haven't officially started the questioning, I'm slightly intrigued." Did he really just say that last part aloud?'

"'We'? Wait. What? 'Intrigued'?"

Yep. He had said that out loud. "Al and I are doing this together." He ignored her other question, not really wanting to delve deeper into the matter until he thoroughly understood what was going on. Maybe he could stroke her ego a bit to get her attention to move elsewhere since she had reacted that way. "When I finish writing up the paper, could you, maybe, edit it?" he shyly asked.

She beamed. "Of course I will! It's not like you make many errors anyway!"

Good that worked out nicely. "Thanks." His phone began ringing. He picked it up and answered it. "Hello?"

"Mattie, come on! Let's go!"

There was no mistaking that voice. "Alright. I'll be out in a minute." He hung up and directed his attention at Thalia. "Al's waiting for me outside. I must be going," he said apologetically.

"Oh, okay. It was lovely seeing you again. Bye, Matthew."

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading!

**Translations:**

_¿Qué pasó? _— What happened?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Yay! I updated quicker than usual! Maybe part of the reason is I had written part of this chapter in March. It was originally riddled with both Matthew and Roderich's POVs. Now that scene is just in Matthew's POV. I've been thinking that once I have gotten further along with this one, I would do Gilbert and Roderich's, and Antonio and Lovino's side of the story.

I'm so excited! School's almost out! I technically only have 11 more days of school, but in reality I only have 6 left (next Friday's Senior Field Day, the last week of school is finals (which I can exempt, perks of being a Senior ^^), and the last day of school it's Senior skip day)!

Well, now I'm rambling again...

Onward with the story!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"LUDWIG~!" shouted Feliciano who bolted form his seat and dashed up to the German. Lovino stared in utter horror after his brother.

Matthew had picked up a fork-full of food, which was halfway to his mouth, to eat, but sit it back down and put his other hand over his mouth to try to hide his silent laughter from his best friend. He chanced a look behind him and found Ludwig completely embarrassed by Feliciano's display. Matthew discovered that his own laughter was harder to keep at bay, so a few snickers excepted his mouth. Alfred, on the other hand, had no tact: he was holding his stomach laughing, hard. Miguel looked up from his book with a smirk on his face, while Yi and Sakura looked on with slight indifference.

Before Matthew turned back around, he noticed that Roderich looked like he was deep in thought and vaguely depressed. Once Roderich caught the blond's eye, the expression was gone. He seemed normal once again. That was odd. What had been going on with the Austrian anyway?

The four of them sat in their usual, or almost usual, seats for lunch: Feliciano sitting back down beside Lovino and Ludwig beside Feliciano, however Roderich switch with Vash. Ludwig and Vash began conversing quietly, not paying any attention on what was going on at the table, while Roderich seemed dazed again when he stared through the nearby window.

Was Roderich still sour about the fight he had had with Ludwig two days ago? Matthew had come to school on Saturday looking for Miguel, who's Ludwig's roommate. He'd stumbled in on them arguing in German, which meant that he didn't understand a word that was uttered, no, yelled in that case. But boy was that a sight. He had _never _seen Roderich or Ludwig argue like that before.

Vash had been there too, but he seemed to be there only to make sure the two arguing didn't physically harm one another. Matthew had asked Vash why they were arguing, but his only reply was that Roderich or Ludwig would tell Matthew if and when they wanted to.

...Well, Vash was no use.

Matthew was pulled out of his thoughts when Lovino said something that caught him off guard. Had he heard that correctly? "Eh? He said what?"

"You heard me!" Lovino shot back.

"Um...Actually, I didn't. I was kinda thinking about something else...while halfway listening...Sorry…" he apologized sheepishly.

"Fuck no! I'm not saying _that _again!" Lovino shuddered and flushed a deep red. "And the bastard actually tried to hug me!" he whined in complete and utter disgust.

Miguel leaned over towards the confused Canadian, and uttered softly, "The person that they are interviewing said that Lovino looked adorable but later said that he looked fuckable."

Matthew could only blink, processing what his best friend had said. So he _had_ heard Lovino correctly...That was just wrong on _so_ many levels!

"_Fratello, _don't be so mean. I thought he was nice!" Feliciano paused in thought for a moment, then continued. "I think he likes you~!"

Lovino whipped his head around to stare at his brother. Both Matthew and Alfred smirked in amusement when Lovino flushed an even deeper red and began to sputter random words. Then he finally collected himself, well as much as he could, anyway. "H-he does _NOT FUCKING LIKE ME_!"

"Um...Feli-kun," Sakura was stumbling over how to say what she was going to say to Feliciano. Yi took over for her.

"Look, Feliciano. There is a _huge_ difference between liking someone and wanting to fuck someone. When someone says that one is 'fuckable,' that usually means that they want to have sex with the other, whether it is willing or not."

"That was blunt and uncharacteristic of you," murmured Alfred.

Yi shrugged. "It had to be said."

Roderich quietly and politely excused himself from the table and exited the lunchroom.

Matthew arced an eyebrow. He glanced around the table to find that Ludwig and Vash were still conversing quietly, Feliciano had gotten up and stood between Yi and Sakura to talk to them, Alfred and Lovino were still talking as well, while Miguel had returned to the book he had been reading. He figured he could easily slip away to talk to Roderich and find out what was bothering him. Matthew stood, but glanced down when he felt a warm hand grasp his wrist.

"Where are you going?" Miguel asked softly with an arced eyebrow.

Matthew eyed the vacant seat then the door.

"I'm coming with you."

Matthew smirked lightly. "I can handle him on my own." With that, he walked out the lunchroom and to the nearest restroom. He really hoped that Miguel wouldn't follow him. He figured that the Austrian would be more forthcoming if they were alone. Matthew opened the door to the men's restroom, finding the Austrian staring at the mirror. Roderich must've heard him come in because the other turned around to face the door.

"I figured that I would find you here."

Roderich blinked, "How did you find me?"

"Usually when something's bothering you," he ran a hand across the counter as he slowly approached the other, "you'll go to the music room to let off some steam, but seeing that you left your books under your seat at the table," Matthew stopped advancing and locked eyes with the other, "I knew that you wouldn't have gone too far. So I decided to head to the nearest restroom, and here you are."

Roderich's eyes narrowed. "I am not in the mood to talk right at the moment." He faced the mirror again. "I wish to be alone."

Matthew's blue-violet eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed when he sighed. "I just want to help you."

The Austrian tried to go around the blond, but Matthew grasped his wrist.

Matthew tilted his head to the side in confusion feeling something beneath his hand other than the sleeve. "What is...?" He began unbuttoning the sleeve which made Roderich began to struggle. Matthew wouldn't be having any of it. He slammed the Austrian into the nearby wall, stunning the he had finished unbuttoning the sleeve, he rolled it back and reviled a bandage wrapped around his wrist. "What is this?" Matthew asked quietly and with measured calmness, his eyes locked on the bandage.

Roderich's hand that wasn't being held flew to the bandaged wrist. "I-It's n-nothing!"

That was new. Matthew had never heard the Austrian stutter."Don't lie to me," his voice was scarily calm.

Roderich seemed to be contemplating whether or not he should let Matthew unwrap his arm. In the end he swallowed hard and allowed him to unwrap the bandage.

There were thin lines of red acting like fluorescent lights against the alabaster skin. They seemed to have a fresh scab on them. Matthew's blue-violet eyes widened. "Why?" The question had almost been a whisper. He never thought his friend would ever do such a thing. Such confidence the brunette always seemed to possess… He didn't understand why Roderich, the aristocratic male that he was, would do such a thing.

Violet eyes were looking everywhere but at Matthew. He didn't say a word.

Matthew sighed. "Please…tell me why you did this to yourself."

The brunette began to struggle once again. "N-no! G-get away from me!"

Matthew had had enough. He slammed his fist against the wall beside the Austrian's face, which startled the other into stillness and silence. "Damn it, Roderich! Just tell me!"

Roderich slowly slid down the wall until he was seated on the floor. His eyes were beginning to water, his voice shaky and hallow, "H-he's alive...He was there, but…" he paused taking a shaky breath, "but, he d-doesn't remember me...He acted as if nothing had happened...!" The brunette trailed off, tears streaming down his face.

Seeing the other cry, he kneeled in front of the crying male and gently began wiping away the tears. "Shh. Who?" he asked softly. Part of him was completely baffled; he had _never_ seen the Austrian like this before, while the other part of him wanted to help his friend any way he could.

"...Gilbert…"

"The one that you're interviewing?"

Roderich only nodded, though it was minute.

Should he ask him? Matthew figured this may be the only time to ask about it anyway. "Is...is he related to Ludwig?"

"_J-ja. _Older brother."

Why had Ludwig lied about having a brother? "Was that what you and Ludwig were arguing about on Saturday?"

The other didn't respond, but only began to shakily stand up, his violet eyes still watery.

"Then answer this for me: why did you do it?" Matthew stayed kneeling while his eyes were trained on Roderich's wrist with the cuts.

The Austrian bolted for the door, but Matthew grabbed his leg, which made the other trip and fall to the ground.

Matthew settled himself on the brunette's thighs just to make sure the other didn't try anything else while Matthew questioned him. He grabbed Roderich's wrist. "What the hell? Why would you do something to hurt yourself like this?!"

Violet eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't understand!" he spat.

"Try me." Matthew replied flatly. This really wasn't like Roderich...What had gotten in to him?

"It's painful! Having someone you love not even recognize you, act like nothing's happened, and insist on going by another name! I need a form of release! It helped me calm down and helped me cope."

_"TALK TO US!_ We're here to help you! Do anything that doesn't require you to hurt yourself! DAMNIT, _STOP HURTING YOURSELF!" _It had been a while since he had raised his voice. His volume had startled the Austrian into silence. "Please," Matthew began again, this time much softer, "please...stop hurting yourself…"

Roderich only stared up at him.

A small part of him knew that he probably shouldn't leave the Austrian just in case he did something rash, but Matthew knew that he needed to leave because if he didn't, he might have lost his temper again, and who knew what he might have done to him. He got off the Austrian and left Roderich, who had gotten himself to a seated position against the wall again, shakily watching the Canadian leave.

As the door closed behind him, he noticed someone leaning against the wall. Matthew's eyes focused on the form beside him; it was Miguel. Why had he followed?

Miguel's eyes widened when he caught sight of the blond. He stood in front of him and gently held the other's upper-arms. "Are you okay?" he asked with much concern in his brown eyes.

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you that I could handle him on my own."

"I came just in case things got out of hand. I was tempted to go in earlier when I heard both of your voices get louder. I also heard a thud. Is everything okay?"

Matthew began walking back to the lunchroom.

"Matthew! Are you okay?" he asked again.

When Matthew, who was still ignoring his best friend's inquires about the bond's wellbeing, re-entered the lunchroom, Ludwig acquired a quizzical expression about his face when he glanced at Matthew. Matthew's gaze was stern and unrelenting. The other's eyes widened, glanced at Vash, and they both stood up. Feliciano stood as well but Ludwig advised him to stay seated. The Italian put up a small fight but after a moment or so he succumbed to the other's wishes and sat back down with a worried expression on his face and glanced at Lovino, uttering a few words in Italian.

Matthew and Miguel sat back down, which made Alfred glance their way in curiosity after seeing Ludwig and Vash leave abruptly.

"What's going on, Mattie?"

"It doesn't concern you, Al," Matthew murmured coldly. Trying to understand all of this new information was quite taxing, and frankly he hadn't the slightest idea of how to handle it. He still had a hard time understanding why Roderich would ever do such a thing to himself. Why couldn't he have just spoken to someone about his feelings before it had gotten as far as it had? He hoped that Roderich wouldn't get any drastic ideas anytime soon.

"Mattie…"

"I said it doesn't fucking concern you!" Matthew grabbed his backpack and left the lunchroom with a concerned Cuban following him.

Once he was outside and had walked far enough away, he stopped and allowed himself to be pulled by Miguel to a nearby tree. Matthew slid down the trunk of the tree until he was seated on the slightly moist earth. He felt a thumb begin to wipe under his eyes. Why would he—Matthew finally registered the wetness on his face. When had he started to cry?

He rubbed the bond's upper-arm, trying to calm the other who was silently crying. "Shh… Everything will be okay," Miguel murmured soothingly. He gently drew Matthew towards him so that the Canadian was laying on his lap. He stroked the blond's hair in hopes of soothing him.

Matthew didn't cease crying for quite some time, but when he did he stayed where he was for a while. He was still thinking about Roderich and how he could possibly try to help the Austrian. Miguel's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Do you feel better?"

Matthew slowly sat up and nodded.

"Hey, it's not your fault." He hugged him for a moment, then held the other at arms length to look at him. "Unhappiness does not suit you."

"I really don't deserve you as my friend." He looked down at the grass, smiling a little. "You're always there for me. I couldn't have asked for a better friend."

Miguel tilted Matthew's face back up so their eyes could lock. "You've been saying that ever since I've gotten to know you. I'm not ever going to leave you." He thought for a moment. "And I don't think anyone else will either."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Roderich hates me now. He's probably worried that I will tell the school what...what he is…" Matthew trailed off.

Miguel chuckled, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "Tell the school that he's gay? I think that quite a few students already suspect that. That little tidbit of information wouldn't be that detrimental." He leaned back into the grass. "Besides, the students are pretty tolerant with all of the sexual orientations."

Looking down at one of his best friends, Matthew's eyes widened. "That's not what I was referring to!"

Miguel only laughed at the Canadian's outburst. After Matthew had calmed back down, he told Miguel what had happened in the men's room. After he finished, Miguel was in a seated position and only blinked. "I did not see that coming."

"I know. I didn't either, but I still don't know what to do to try to help him. What if he doesn't get better?" He was becoming slightly frantic.

"Shh, clam down," he cooed. He smirked after the Canadian had calmed slightly. "You worry too much. Everything will work out, you'll see."

* * *

"He's been in there longer than normal."

Antonio looked up from shuffling the cards.

"And it worries me, Antonio."

The brunette set the cards on the table and looked at his close friend. He sighed. "To be honest, part of me is worries like you are," he began dealing, "but the other part isn't. It's actually elated."

Blue eyes widened in shock. "You don't really mean that…" Francis paused for a moment, then continued, "Why do you hate Prussia so much?"

Antonio gave him a look and set the remainder of the deck in between them. They picked up their cards and began playing.

Seeing the Spaniard's demeanor change, he decided to change the subject. "So," he glanced at the other as he laid down a card, what are your interviewers like?"

With that question Antonio perked up. "They're twins!"

"Oh? Mine are too."

Antonio smirked. "They're Italian. The younger is _so_ adorable and sweet; the older one's sexy. Sadly he has quite a bit of a mouth on him." His eyes glinted with mischief. That glint in the other's eye worried the Frenchman, which made him feel slightly afraid for the elder Italian. "But I can fix that."

France chuckled in amusement. _It seems like their sex drives are merging._

_ Oh, hush now!_

France smirked. _Ours already have._

Francis huffed, making Antonio ark a brow. The Spaniard laid a card down. "What are yours like?" He cursed under his breath when Francis laid his card down.

"One was raised in America, and I don't know where the other was raised," his voice held slight regret with not finding out more about _Mathieu_.

Antonio laid his cards flat on the table in defeat. "What do you mean 'you don't know'? Didn't you have enough time to find out?"

"No, _Mademoiselle _Michelle came and got me for my 'weekly check-up'. Their parents are divorced, so I'm not sure if they were raised in the same country."

"Do you find one interesting?" Antonio prodded.

Francis gave a small smile. _"Oui."_

* * *

**A/N:** I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! I sure enjoyed writing it! ^^**  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** ...How should I put this...I'm very sorry for such a gap...My first few weeks of my summer have been VERY hectic. First Graduation, then going to Chicago, then getting new hardwood floors, and finally my orientation at my college in Tennessee (which I just got back from a few days ago). Things would be MUCH easier if I had my own laptop. Oh well!

Anyway, on with the story!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"We aren't gonna to get interrupted again, are we?"

Francis shook his head. "_Non._ It's all taken care of." Matthew's shifting in his seat caught his attention. The blue-violet eyed male had been somewhat subdued the whole time he'd been in Francis' room. What had his _Mathieu_ so troubled?

_This is your second time meeting him, and you are already attached…_ France shook his head in disapproval. _This is sad._

_What do you know?!_

_ I know you…_

Alfred's voice snapped him out of his internal conversation with France. "Hmm?"

Alfred frowned, seeming slightly annoyed for having been ignored. He hit the button on the recording device and placed it on the nearby table. After having made sure that it wouldn't fall over, he repeated, "Let's start with the basics: family, friends, what you like to do, etc."

Francis smirked. "Only if _Mathieu_ agrees to tells me a little about himself~!"

"He does."

"I said if _Mathieu_ agreed, not if you agreed for him." He directed his attention at the honey blond male. "So, do we have a deal~?"

_You really want to get to know this blond, don't you?_

Francis ignored France's remark. Hearing that _Mathieu_ agreed, Francis clapped his hands together. "Let's see, where to start? Oh, I have two best friends, who are both in the building—"

"As inmates or staff?" Alfred grumbled under his breath.

Francis was unimpressed. "As patients...anyway, I'm from France (figure out which city), I love to cook, be fabulous, and meet new people!"

_And sleep with them._

Francis scuffed in annoyance. _"__C'était il y a longtemps déjà!__"_

_Oh, don't lie to yourself; you know you miss the sex._

Matthew's voice stopped Francis from retorting.

"What was a long time ago?"

Had Francis really spoken to France aloud? "You understand _français?_"

The honey blond nodded.

Alfred glanced from one to the other. "Oh, no you don't! Don't you _dare _do this whole thing in French! I only know enough to get by when Matti's yelling at me in French, which doesn't happen that often."

The Frenchman feigned being hurt. "Oh, you wound me so! Why would you ever think I would do such a thing?"

Alfred gave a disbelieving look. "Family?"

At least he wouldn't have to tell them about France yet. The previous subject seemed to be dropped. Crisis averted, at least for now. Maybe he could break the news about France gently. Perhaps while telling one of his stories. "I had a father and I don't give a damn to where my mother is. I don't even care if the bitch is still alive."

The twins shared a look of skepticism. Matthew rummaged through an envelope and pulled out something that looked like a photo. "Could you tell us about this?" He handed it to Francis.

Once the photo was in his hands, he gazed at it for quite some time, running his thumb over the surface a few times. It'd been such a long time since he'd seen that scene. The photo was of better times: when his father was still alive, his mother, if he could even call her that, didn't hate him completely, when the three of them were somewhat of a family. He flipped it over seeing the orange ink on the back. Had it really been almost ten years since this had been taken? Had it really been that long ago when things started going to hell? He missed his father greatly. If there really was some sort of heaven or afterlife, maybe his father would be there waiting for him. Francis glanced from the photo when Matthew spoke again.

_"__Tu n'as pas besoin de faire ça si c'est trop pour toi, voilà.__"_

"_Non,_ it is fine. I should probably begin a few years before this photo; it'll make more sense that way."

Matthew and Alfred nodded in unison.

He took a deep breath and began speaking. "My mother hadn't always hated me. At first the three of us were a cohesive family."

* * *

"_Maman_, can we go to another play soon?", asked Francis without looking at his mother because the majority of his attention was on the puppy they were watching for the family down the street. He was playing tug of war with it. The puppy was putting up a good fight, too.

Helene was seated in a single seat couch reading a book. She laughed lightly shaking her head disbelievingly at her son. "_Mon ange,_ we just saw one on Tuesday, today is Thursday."

He let go of the rope making the puppy roll backwards a little which made a small sound of annoyance, and turned around when he heard the sound of laughter. His mother looked younger than she really was; many would ask if she were old enough to be a lawyer. She would promptly reply that she went to school just like the rest of her colleagues. She had dark brown hair which framed her face and stopped just below her shoulders. She had brown eyes to match her brown hair and fair skin. "That shouldn't matter! I had so much fun and I wish to see another!"

She gave a short sigh but was still smiling. "Alright, fine. We'll look to see what's coming soon. Remember the magazine _papa_ grabbed when we were at the theater on Tuesday?"

Francis nodded.

"Do you know where it is?"

Francis nodded again, this time with much enthusiasm.

"Good. Go fetch it for me."

With that, the little boy dashed out of the living room and up the stairs to the study. The puppy followed until it reached the stairs; it started pacing in circles when it figured out that it couldn't climb the stairs in a manner that would not cause it any harm. Francis found himself staring up at a fairly large bookcase. Two shelves from the top he could make out the edge of the magazine that his mother was speaking of. He frowned. Why did it have to be so high? Glancing around the room, he found a chair and scooted it in front of the shelf. He stepped on it, it wobble which made him freeze.

_Maybe this isn't the best corse of action, you will most likely fall and hurt us both_, a voice much like his own mused flatly in his head, though he knew that he hadn't thought anything of the sort.

There was that voice again; where was it coming from?

Once the wobbling stopped, he grabbed the magazine and jumped off the chair. Before he left the study, the phone rang. The number on the caller I.D. looked remotely familiar. He hadn't learned all of the phone numbers yet. In fact his mother had made him a card that had all the contacts that he needed: home, Mom's work, and Dad's work. The card was laminated, just in case someone pushed him into a nearby water source, say a fountain. Hey, children could be ruthless, especially that British girl, if she could be called one, down the street. Always calling him some words in English that he didn't understand. He would have to ask his parents what "frog" meant later, she seemed to favor calling him that among other things.

He picked it up and said, "_Bonjour."_

_ "Francis, is that you?"_ came the voice from the other end.

He recognized his father's voice immediately. "_Père!_ Are you coming home?"

_"Oui, I am leaving as soon as I hang up the phone."_

Francis grinned from ear to ear. "Okay! See you then!" He was about to hit the end button when his father's voice came into the receiver. He put it back up to his ear. "Did you say something, _père_?"

_"Put your mother on the phone."_ His father sounded slightly different. Maybe he was nervous about something. He shrugged. Or maybe it was nothing.

He walked down the stairs and handed the phone to his mother. She arced a perfectly manicured brow as she took the phone from her son. _"Bonjour?"_ There was a pause then she spoke again, but this time to Francis' chagrin she spoke in English. He had a hard time learning how to speak the dreadful language, Spanish was much easier in his opinion, he'd become quite fluent in it with Spain being the country's neighbor and all. He sighed and left the room, but not before placing the magazine on the table in the room, to look for the puppy.

He found the puppy near the back door with it looking between him and the door. Francis opened the door and the ball of fur bounded, as best as it could, out the door. The blond closed it behind him and sat in the grass watching the puppy nip at the grass and roll in it too. It was quite the amusing animal.

_She's never spoken English over the phone with papa._

There was that voice again! Was he going crazy?

_No, I can promise you that you aren't. I've been with you since you were born._

"Who—What are you? And how did you hear me?"

_I am you, but slightly different. _The voice sighed. _I can hear you when you speak aloud or think in your head. We share the same body._

Francis mulled that over for a moment. What did the voice mean by that? The puppy gave a small bark, climbed into his lap, and laid down. Francis petted the soft fur.

_So, you can hear me when I do this? _Francis thought to himself.

_Yes, I can._

Francis remembered what the voice had said earlier. _Do you think something's going on between mama and papa?_

_ Maybe...I don't know! I just seemed odd to me…_

_ Do you have a name? _Francis asked out of the blue. The voice seemed to be getting a bit frustrated. Maybe distracting the voice would help.

The voice laughed. _We share the same mind you know. But to answer your question I don't have one. When I'm out I usually go by your name._

_ What do you mean when you're out?_

_ When I have control of our body._

Francis paled. _Y-you haven't been doing anything bad, have you?_

_ No, that would be stupid. I like having freedom._

Francis sighed in relief. _Thank goodness!_ They had been silent for a while when Francis asked, _Can I name you?_

_ Sure...I don't see why not…_

_ How about Hermes? Francis was met with silence. Or Alex?_

_ That's better but keep going._

_ Ken?_

_ Like the Barbie doll? I'll pass._

_ Éric…?_

The voice exhaled in exasperation. _Quit giving me stupid names! Pick something that describes us!_

Francis was silently thinking over what described them both. Then it came to him. _France…?_ he tentatively offered.

_France..._the voice repeated. _I like it._

* * *

Matthew jolted and frantically pulled his phone from his back pocket, but not before giving an apologetic look towards Francis. He answered it. "...Well hello to you too, papa." He glanced at Alfred. "Yeah, he's here." Another pause. He handed the device to Alfred who took it and through the door to talk in the hall, but not before turning off the recording device.

"Sorry about that," Matthew apologized and looked down in shame at his lap.

Francis shrugged. "It happens."

"You speak English fine now."

"Ah. My friend Antonio helped me with that." _Oh the things we did together._ "Doesn't Alfred have a phone?"

Matthew smirked. "It's probably either dead or back at the apartment."

He stood stretching his arms above his head until a few soft popping noises came from his joints. "You seem very quiet today. Do you wish to tell me what is wrong?"

The honey blond was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't want to be a bother. I'm supposed to be interviewing you, remember?" He frowned a little. "So you talked to yourself?"

"Don't change the subject." He inwardly sighed."It might help if you talk about it." He walked over to the other, lifting his chin, blue-violet locking with concerned blue. "Unhappiness doesn't suite you."

Matthew turned his head away with a slight blush on his face. "The other day a friend of mine told me that."

"Well, that friend of yours is completely correct. _Doit-moi ce qui te dérange._"

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

Francis shook his head "no".

Matthew sighed in defeat. "I-I got into a fight...no, that doesn't quite describe it. There was an intervention..." When he trailed into silence Francis coxed him to continue. "My friend...he...I found out that he cut himself..."

Francis tilted his head to the side not following the blond in front of him.

"On a regular basis..."

Oh. That never ended well. "Is this the same person you were referring to earlier?"

"NO!...I mean no. Someone else."

The Frenchman placed his hands on either side of the blond's shoulders to still him. He had started shaking sometime during the conversation. "Tell me names so I do not get confused," he murmured.

"Miguel was the one who said the thing about unhappiness. The one who cut himself was...Roderich."

Francis froze. That couldn't be a coincidence...there was no way that—

"I r-really shouldn't be telling you this. It doesn't even pertain to you..." he began to ramble.

"Actually, I think it does."

Matthew glanced up at him in confusion.

Francis inhaled then exhaled. "When some partakes in cutting one's self, there is always a reason. What is Roderich's reason?"

Matthew studied the other for a few moments. "He said something about losing Gilbert."

The door opened and Alfred walked back in, his eyes wide. Matthew worriedly studied him, but Alfred shook his head and handed the phone back to the other and retreated back through the door.

Matthew stood up. "Al!"

Francis walked over to where the recording device was, picked it up and handed it to the honey blond. "Here. Seems you might need to go after him."

"I'm so sorry for having to cut this short...I'll see you next week, eh?" Francis nodded. Matthew grabbed the envelope and bag and started for the door.

"One thing before you go." Matthew halted and turned around. "Where were you raised?"

"Here in Canada by my mama." He left Francis' room.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you so much for reading! I hope to have this one up in a more timely manner! Oh and if you celebrate the holiday, Happy 4th of July! (Well it'll be valid in a few days. ^^)

**Translations provided by Xou:**

C'était il y a longtemps déjà! —That was a long time ago!

Tu n'as pas besoin (de faire ça) si c'est trop pour toi, voilà. —You don't have to do that, if it's too hard for you.

Doit-moi ce qui te dérange. —Tell me what bothers you.

Maman — mom/mommy

Père — papa/father


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Well, it's been a while... Alright then, let's continue!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The afternoon was sunny and warm. The natural light felt nice on Matthew's back as he was seated behind Alfred on the motorcycle with his arms wrapped loosely around the other's waist. Alfred took a turn a little too quickly for Matthew's comfort almost making Matthew lose his balance. Alfred had been uncharacteristically quiet which scared the Canadian. "Alfred?" Matthew was met with silence yet again. Once they had arrived at their apartment and were inside the front door, Alfred was in his room before Matthew could ask him anything. He followed. "Tell me what's going on," he demanded as he leaned on the door frame to the other's bedroom.

Alfred paused what he was doing, turned around and regarded the other for a minute or two, then narrowing his blue eyes and shaking his head he turned back around and resumed what he had been previously doing.

This wasn't like Alfred. Usually he'd tell him what was bothering him. What had papa said to make him act in such a way? That had to be it, right?

He slowly approached the blond and sat on the bed covered with the red, white, and blue comforter that Matthew had gotten for him the previous Christmas, because that old DC Comic superhero one had to go. It was very old and tattered. There was a small suitcase on the bed and a red duffel bag at his feet. The honey blond eyed the object on the bed that was already halfway filled with clothes. "W-Where are you going?" he tentatively asked.

Alfred slammed the suitcase shut and faced him. His sky blue eyes seemed darker and full of hurt and betrayal.

"Dad wants me to come to the U.S. for a while. He said everything would be explained when I got there."

"But that's not what's bothering you, is it?"

"Oh, like I should tell you what's bothering me," he muttered darkly.

This really wasn't like Alfred. "What are you going on about?"

"You told him...You told _him_ before me, your own brother!"

Matthew flinched at his twin's volume. "...Al..."

"I heard everything through the door. My conversation with dad wasn't that long. I heard everything you said to that...that _Frenchman_ who talks to himself!" He turned around and walked towards the dresser on the other side of the room, racking a hand through his blond hair in frustration. "When you and Miguel left lunch on Monday, I asked the others who were still there what was going on. Yi, Sakura, Lovino, and Feli said that they had no clue of what was going on. Vash, Miguel, Ludwig aren't saying a word. Roderich definitely isn't saying a thing!" He slammed his hands on the dresser causing some of the items to jostle but not fall over. "Then _you_ go and spill your secrets to that man of all people!"

By this time Matthew was no longer sitting on the bed, he was standing. "It's not my secret to tell!"

He shook his head in disbelief gesturing in the air with one of his hands. "You seemed to have no problem telling _him_!"

That stopped him in his tracks. He had, hadn't he? Why had he done that? "H-He's easy to talk to..." Matthew defended weakly.

"And I'm not?! You've only met him twice!" He gave a disbelieving laugh. "I know what it is." He turned back around eyeing the Canadian for a few moments. "He must have you wrapped tightly around his finger. Soon enough you'll be giving him sexual favors like you did for your ex."

Matthew gasped in shock as his hands flew up to his mouth. Had his brother just called him...?

No...

NO!

He needed out. He needed to get away from him. He could faintly hear Alfred call for him to stop as he ran out of the room and grabbed the keys. He ran out the house, across the street, and into the garage. He hopped onto the bike, put on his helmet, and turned the key in the ignition.

For what seemed like hours, he drove. He eventually found himself in front of his mother's house. He knew that she was still at work so he went up to the garage door and keyed in the number which opened the garage, pulled the motorcycle in just in case it started to rain, closed the garage door, opened the door to the house, tossed his phone on the coffee table, and collapsed lengthwise onto the sofa, his feet hanging over the edge. While lying on his back he felt wetness running down his face. When had he...?

Something settled on his abdomen which made him prop himself on his elbows to see what it was. What he found was a black, ginger, and white cat named Aja with dark amber eyes. Matthew's mother had found her a few years ago as a kitten on her way to work one day. Aja had been hanging around the hospital where his mother, Evelin Linda Williams, worked.

Aja stood up, leaned forward, and licked the trail of salty wetness on both sides of his face. Matthew managed a weak smile and scratched her behind the ears. Within moments the cat was asleep on his chest. Not long after Matthew followed suit as well.

* * *

A buzzing noise woke up the Canadian. He groaned a bit as he reached for the offending noise hitting the coffee table or the wine glass, when the hell had that gotten there, which he almost knocked over, in each failed attempt at getting his phone, meaning that he had to actually sit up and reach for the damn thing, causing Aja to wake, fall into his lap and gaze up at him not amused about being woken up in such a way. He apologized to her and picked up the phone and answered groggily.

_"Good, Matthew, you're there!"_ Thalia's voice was filled with worry. _"Are you alright?"_

Matthew sighed. At least it was only Thalia not Alfred. "As alright as I'm gonna get. Why, is something going on?"

_"I...umm..."_ There was a short pause then she began again. _"Where are you?"_ He was about to answer when she continued. _"You know how I like face to face conversations better than ones over the phone,"_ she finished a little too hastily.

That was true; she was rather fond of talking to people in person, but something felt off, her voice was a tad different as well. "Did Alfred put you up to this?" annoyance clear in his voice. He wasn't annoyed at her, per se, just at Alfred.

_"He says that he's sorry!"_ she uttered frantically.

"Put him on."

_"W-What makes you think he's here!"_ she began to get defensive.

"I know my brother. Put. Him. On," he repeated, pronouncing each syllable with an uncharacteristic stern undertone. There was a shuffling, then silence, then:

_"Mattie! You're okay! I'm so glad you're okay! I'm—"_

The honey blond didn't let the other finish. "Shut. Up." It surprised Matthew that Alfred actually got quiet, thus he continued. "I'm not in the mood to talk with you," his voice came out calmly or at least a lot calmer than he felt. "I may say something that might _upset_ you, like you did me, if I continue talking." Matthew hung up before Alfred could reply and laid it on the coffee table, eyeing the wine glass. There were a few droplets at the bottom of the glass. This hadn't been there long, meaning that she was home from work.

Aja hopped off he lap when he stood. When he didn't hear the taping of his footsteps he glanced down and found that his shoes were no longer on his feet. He sighed. His mother must've taken them off when she came home. He turned around when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. His mother was now at the foot of the stairs, a towel still wrapped around her head covering her light brown hair. She must have just finished a shower.

She gave a soft smile. "I see you're awake now."

Matthew murmured a quiet hello and followed her to the kitchen where she started cutting up some vegetables for whatever she was to cook for dinner. By this time she had taken off the towel and had laid it across one of the kitchen chairs. Her slightly curled brown hair was moving as she chopped. It had gotten longer since he had last visited her. Maybe she was growing it out again.

"It's nice of you to drop by, but I would've preferred that you called before hand." She glanced behind her to find him leaning gently against the wall. "You will just have to deal with something simple."

"I don't mind."

They were silent for some time. Conversation didn't start again until the food was prepared. They talked of various topics, but nothing of real importance. A few things that were said one made the other laugh. He always liked spending time with his mother. She always made him feel better just with the little things she did. Not once during the whole meal did she ask why he was here, though he knew that she would eventually. She always did.

After the dishes were done, they ended up siting next to each other on the couch.

"What's going on between you and your brother?"

How did she do that? How did she always seem to just_ know_? He was silent for a while. Might as well get it over with. "We had a bit of a fight..." She turned to face him, raising an eyebrow as if asking him to continue. "We...he basically called me a whore."

Her brown eyes widened. "What happened to make him say that?"

"He overreacted," he said, eyes cast down at his phone. He had since put the thing on silent mode so that it wouldn't vibrate or ring. There was a small light blinking on the top of his phone, meaning that he had a message or missed call. No, probably more that one message and or missed call. He really didn't feel like dealing with Alfred for a while. At least Alfred's trip will allow Matthew some space. What perfect timing...

"Has he apologized yet?"

He pulled his eyes from the phone and locked his eyes on his mother. He sighed and cast his eyes to the far wall where the fireplace was. "Not in person." He felt a slender hand squeeze his shoulder gently. He glanced at her again and he was met with a gentle smile.

"Are you staying for the night? I don't have to go in tomorrow..." He gave a small nod. She frowned a little in return. "You know avoiding him will not help the situation."

"Yeah, you're right, but I just don't want to deal with him right now."

* * *

**A/N: **Ah, sorry this seems short. That's because the next one shall be longer.


End file.
